Ocean Eyes
by LastSomethingThatMeantAnything
Summary: Well this is for you. I don't know...I just started writing and this is what I ended up with. So in other words...read and find out xD And yes I'm aware at a certain degree it makes no sense, and I apologize for any spelling mistakes or anything. But I like it..and I'll keep adding if you want me to. Well Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

_If you go to Chesapeake Bay, sit at the docks on the bay, and busy yourself with dunking your feet into the tide. If you sit there, watching the sunset. The sea water rising up to kiss the sand, and then retreating back into the fading glow of the sun. If you sit there long enough, staring off into the distance, you'll find him. And if you don't…he'll find you. Wait there, if your patient, and watch the sun go down. Wait there for a dusty haired boy, with bright green eyes. A shade of green that makes you think of forests, life, and hope. Hair that wrestles with the wind, instead of being flung around. It flattens down in some parts, and sticks up to the sky in others. And his skin…soft, like butterfly kisses. Wait for him, and he'll find you. But don't, whatever you do, don't let him fool you. His heart, you think it's yours. It's not. It never will be. Taming a heart like that, is about as easy as taking the sea into a jar, and keeping it by your bedside table, to marvel at while you drift into sleep. His name is Blake, and as much as you don't want to be found by then. After I tell you this, as much as you won't want to be seen, he'll find you. He'll see your dark hair flying, catching fire in the setting sun, and he'll come and sit with you. You will look into those forests in his eyes, get drowned in the hope, and find yourself feeling like your living again. And then his voice, as pure as the sky, and as tender as anything. He will wrap you up in his words, and you'll want to keep it, the sound, the feeling, everything about that moment. But don't. Just don't, you have to learn to let go of all of this early, before you fall. You can't stay there too long. Then you will speak to him. You will find yourself unable to stay away. You'll ask him so many questions, open up to him; everything will fall out like ink onto paper. You would think it'd look sloppy; the ink on the paper, but it doesn't, because he helps you. Once he's done, that ink on paper doesn't look so messy. It looks…almost beautiful. And then, you will tell him what you've been thinking, what you've been feeling, why you are truly here. And his eyes, the forests, the life, the hope, will blaze like never before, and his arms, the soft skin like butterfly kisses, will be so close to you. He'll wrap you in his words, in his arms, and you'll think its love, but it's not. It's a trick, don't fall for it. You'll think he's yours forever but he's not. And then, as the sun is gone, and the stars, twinkling brightly, but not as bright as him. You will have thought the sun had set, that the light was gone until tomorrow…but no. His smile, it's made of everything good. It has light, life, happiness, beauty, everything you had hoped to see in your life all in one single gesture. Then he'll take your hand in his, and kiss you good night, and he'll say: "Sweet dreams", and you'll know they'll be sweet because they will be of him. And now comes the hard part…Forgetting. Everything. His eyes, his skin, everything you wanted, everything you'd hoped for, because it's not yours, it was never yours, you can't have him. You know why? Because he gets taken by the very thing that brought you here. And that hurts more than anything else you could have thought, or hoped, or every believed and had gotten smashed, broken, cracked. But you didn't listen did you? You fell for it. Fate fooled you. You shouldn't have looked into those eyes. You should have believed me. But you didn't. We both didn't. So now, there's no one left to blame….but me. _

If you close your eyes and listen, just rely on your ears, forgetting about your eyes, you'll hear them. The train whistles, the clicking, the rush. And if you allow yourself to stay there in that moment, to really focus you'll realize the rush isn't from the trains. Its the ocean. Far, far off in the distance, where the ocean sits. And then if you allow yourself to relax, for once all day, you can feel it. The vibration of footsteps in the building, the waves running up to meet you, everything. At least thats what I feel. Or...what I used to. The ocean's gone now, and so is the past. I tell myself this every night, when I allow myself to slip away...back to that ocean, that shore, everything I've tried so hard to forget. Mother's eyes, the boat, the train. Everything about there is bad, tainted, made to look good again, even though everything was so torn, so broken. You just need to pay attention to details.

I look around the tiny, cramped space. My makeshift bed, in which I share with Nadia, my keeper. Thats what she is to me. We are too close to be sisters, but when we think of each other...we don't think of attachments, we don't think of family, because we both don't have one. We think of what we keep, the thoughts the memories. And whenever I think of my memories, their always of her. She keeps every part of me. My life is hers to take, and to throw away. She's my keeper. The drawers in the room I also share with her as well. And the bags we keep the food in. Only a few items, that won't spoil quickly are kept in the bags. We both don't eat unless nessacary, or if we're sick. Or if we're moving...again. Nadia started that, eating something after giving bad news. I remember all the times she had done that. Ate away her sorrows, but never getting happier. The same blank stare.

"Sky, the cat died" she pulled out cubes of cheese, and began gorging. "Sky, the old man who used to buy us food was shot dead last night" she bit into an apple. "Sky...our lives are a wreck, and your still dying." She finished a whole box of crackers with that bit. And the worst: "Sky I did it again...we have to move." She can finish off all our food when she says that.

I lay in bed patiently, staring at my glass of water, my pills already inside. Nadia had to work months to buy them all, for my various health problems. I don't take them, until she gets home. Its been sitting there for an hour, the color of the pill has turned the water into a light green, the color of mose, or mold. Then the vibrations, the footsteps. I can always tell Nadia's apart from anyone elses. Because their quick, but not panicked, loud, but not threatening, and in every step, theres a pause. You can hear it. She steps quickly, but theres always a pause, a creak in between, like she has to force herself to climb each step. Everyone else's steps sound the same. Loud, fast, and makes every step on the staircase creak uncomfortably. Squealing like a dying pig. She opens the door, only enough so that her thin body can slip through, shuts it tight, then locks it, the way she always does. Her eyes are a deep green, with flecks of gold and brown in them. Not hazel, but almost like their brown and cant make up their mind. And when she's worried, when she's done something wrong, the flecks of gold gleam like the setting sun, and the light brown looks soapy, like mud. And the green just mixes into it. Her jaw is clenched like she's in pain.

"I lost my job today...but I stole my bosses wallet. Then borrowed money from the front register. I'll pay him back." She sits down on the edge of my bed. Explaining her day with her eyes, not her words. With her words she explains whats been done, and what she wants to do. But her eyes tell the truth. "We should have enough money to board a train...go to a different town."

Her eyes say: I quit my job after stealing my bosses wallet. Then stole the money from the register. I won't pay him back, because I can't. I'm keeping it though all of it, because I need it to take care of you. We don't have enough money to go to another town.

I nod, understanding. "Did you take your pill?" I shake my head. She walks to the sink, emptying out the green water, pouring the pills into her now wet hand, then refills the cup, dropping the pills in again. The make tiny splashes, like when people toss stones in lakes. She touches her fingertips to my forehead, and pours the water down my throat gently. It takes three sips to drink it all, then I watch from the corner of my eye as the pills slips down the cup, and I swallow it all down. Nadia then grabs a box of poptarts we bought last week, and rips open a packet. They're blueberry, I can tell by the smell, and the way she breaks it into pieces individually, because she knows I like blueberry. She gives me a piece, putting it next to my face, where it makes a triangular indention in my pillow. I lift my head, chewing it silently, then pushing it down. It hurts to eat solid foods. She looks me in the eye, then gives me another piece, but then bites into the poptart. I can't eat anything else for the rest of the night now. Unless I want to cough up blood. We both know what happens to me, all my health problems, everything. We both know I'm impossible to care for...but she does.

Her eyes dart from me to the window. She's thinking of suicide. I know when she is, because she always watches me, more like holds me with her eyes. I'm the reason she's still here, otherwise she'd have nothing left to live for. With everything that tied us to who we are gone, the peple who gave us our names lost...we have nothing but each other. Now until forever, and I say that because it'll be forever before I'm healthy enough to move on my own again. It'll be forever, too, before we both can feel anything ever again anyways.

But what you do, is you hope, and pray, that one day God thinks enough of you to take you away. In the end, its what we all want, and need. But what you do with things you want and need...is to learn to walk away from it. And then it'll all turn around, and come running back to you. You just need to be patient, because needs and want take time. It takes time for them to realize they need and want you too. Everything takes time. But with where I'm at, I don't know how much time I have left. In time...I'll figure it out. In time...everything will come running back, and life won't be so damn hard.


	2. Chapter 2

_When on a bridge, having the time of your life, you do not expect, or ever have any intent of thinking of death. But that's all he thought about. Death, dying, when everything would end. By then I wasn't enough for him anymore. I couldn't help him. I wouldn't watch him fade though. I didn't want to, and I refused. I ran to him, the boy with the green eyes, so full of life, to help me save one. It wasn't because it was in his eyes that I thought just maybe he could bring back a life. No. It wasn't in his eyes. It was in his whole being. I, myself, was getting better. He wasn't. And the boy with the green eyes still remained a question. Where his heart was I wasn't sure…but after that night, sitting on the docks until way dark. Watching the sky light up again, even though the stars weren't twinkling any brighter, even though the sun had gone hours ago. After that night, he came back, to the docks. I was waiting. He sat down next to me, his hair curled, not like before. It wasn't windy that night, and his hair curled, cascading across his forehead, curling around his ears, his temple, everywhere were these glorious locks of dusty brown. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to his chest, so I may feel his heart beating, so close to my own. It felt as if they belonged that close. At that moment I realized this…whatever this was…meant everything to me. I grabbed a handful of the locks, allowing them to slip through my fingers, my hand falling to his shoulder. His fingers lifting my face…and…nothing. He stared into my eyes, and then looked away. "You have them too you know." _

"_What? I have what?" I demanded, impatient. "Those eyes."_

"_Those eyes…" I whispered. And as I caught his eye, I watched him jump off the top of the roof, into the sea. The green eyed boy had gone to retrieve something. I had let myself slip away, let him slip away. And I watched. My father, the man who gave me his life and his name, his eyes the same as mine, peer at me, then down to his death. Whatever is held within death, whatever you get to see…must have looked more promising than me, because he jumped. Jumping out of my life and sky diving head first into a new. The sea swallowed him, and drowned him in his own being. He slipped away…and after that moment so did my life. The green eyed boy came back, only to watch me die slowly inside. But he came back, and he brought that hope in his eyes with him. And I lived. But the sea…it comes up to shore, and pulls you in with its wide tide eyes, its welcoming liquid arms, and its whistling wind. And if you can't fight it…then you're bound to be swept away. _

I fell asleep to Nadia opening her second pack of Pop tarts, and leaving. The pills make me sleepy so that I don't have to feel any pain while they mess up my damage organs, trying to fix it all, cleansing out my stomach, clearing my mind. Fixing, takes a lot of breaking. The same thing applies to life…well in my opinion. With everything in my life so broken…maybe, just maybe then everything will be alright.

Nadia's gone. I remember…almost…her telling me she has to go give the money back that she had borrowed. I was going under too fast to see what her eyes had said. She opened that pack of Pop tarts, then left. She'll be back though, she always comes back. Her footsteps announcing her arrival, their pauses allowing you to bask in the moment until she arrives at the door, sliding in and locking it.

I felt suddenly like the ocean was in my stomach, climbing up my throat, but its waves moving in and out all the same. Slicing my throat, cutting off my air. I can't breathe. I put my fingers to my throat, a tear slipping down my cheek. "Nadia…Nadia…Nadia please…" I'm thinking this because I can no longer speak. "Nadia…." And there are her footsteps. The pauses. The door…and then her mouth opens like she's about to speak, but it closes, and she's at my side before I can even blink. Nadia's been having to preform CPR on me for a little over a month now…The cleansing…of my body, apparently that includes my lungs. It doesn't always happen. Not unless I let the pills sit too long, which I always do. Part of me is hoping Nadia won't come when she does, and the other part of me clings for dear life. My body feels air going through it again, and my lungs catch it, like children do with fireflies. The air pushes against my stomach, my ribs, like the fireflies do in your hand. But my lungs suck in with such a force. I push Nadia back. I can breathe.

I gasp for air like the fish do when they've been caught. Because they know…their done for…but they still try, and try. But they never know when to give up. I don't know when to give up. Shouldn't I be giving up? Nadia shakes her head, as if to answer my question. She helps me up, and out of bed, and sits me down in the only chair we have in the room. She then brushes my long locks of blonde hair. It's long because we've never cut it. Nadia has only once tried to cut my hair, but I kept flinching, and she eventually gave up and cried. She said I flinched like I was dying, like I was being stabbed, and just that, the thought of me hurt was too much for her. I held her while she cried, and we made a silent promise to never do that again.

The teeth of the comb tickle my scalp, and runs through my hair. I sigh, and look in the mirror. My eyes are red, and my lips are still slightly blue. My skin sags in places, like it doesn't fit. I try a smile…only to be horrified with what I see. Nadia gives me a glass of water, and I drink it down.

"Now try…" She whispers, and as I smile she lets go of my hair, letting it fall over my shoulders, and down my back. I smile, my eyes lighting up slightly, and it brings my whole face up. I then close my eyes, as if to capture the image…to hold it in my eyes, and let it slip into my memory. When I open them, I catch Nadia smiling in the mirror too. Only for a moment, it slips away when I open my eyes. But I swear, for those few seconds that it was there, it lit up the room, and officially became the most beautiful thing in the world. Only one other person ever smiled like that: my mother.

"Jonah, get your ass on the train!" His voice was deep, threatening, but only his red, blackened nose stuck out the window. I snickered. Henry has never had a clean face before. "Get that god damned look off your face and get your ass on the train!" Henry screams, drawing a crowd.

Whispers, echoes, little snippets of words reach my ears. I smile when I hear them, because they are all about his large, red, blackened nose. The train whistles, and I watch as the doors close. "Jonah GET YOUR-" The train whistled again, censoring him, which was necessary because a lot of enraged mother's glared at Henry's nose, while their little four year olds tugged on their dresses. The train became to move, and Henry stuck his whole head out the train car window. He opened his mouth, but the mother's glares penetrated him it seems. He just glared at me, clenching his jaw. I waved. His teeth tightened, his top row drilling into the bottom. I blew him a kiss, then, walked away.

"Jonah…Jonah! JONAH!" He shouts my name, but the train began moving. I pulled up my hood, and disappeared into the crowd. Now I just had to find Lillian, wherever that …. No it's not worth it, just find her. Leave. Leave everything behind and never come back. I check his office, his room, everywhere. Then a muffled sound comes from the ceiling. I moved one of the tiles, to find a large, black duffel bag. I pulled it down, cradling it, and then unzipped it. There she lay…peaceful almost. She was swaddled in blankets, her small tuffs of strawberry blonde hair shimmering against the grey blankets. I touched her cheek but automatically pulled away. She was freezing. I picked her up, holding her to my chest, hoping my heartbeat would be enough to keep her calm, sleeping.

I needed silence for this. I opened the garage door, pulling it up with my free arm, and jumped into his car. I put lay her gently on the passenger seat, and begin pulling out wires. Eventually the car engine purrs, and then roars. I speed out and then slow down, getting ready to cross the road, going onto the bridge, entering Maryland.

She rolls on the seat, so I grab the duffel bag. I will never forgive myself for this, but I rather die than have her get injured. I pull over, quickly grabbing all the dirty trash, shirts, everything from the back seats and pile them in. I then, gently, put her in, keeping the duffel bag open. She opens one of her eyes, sleepily. Their blue, a deep blue, the shade of blue the ocean becomes during a sunset. When you look apart from the golden rays on the water, you can see the dark blue, and then it gets lighter. That's what mother's eyes were like, and now Lillian has them. God, please let her live. Please don't let him find her. I speed into the church, only safe place that I know Henry won't look. He doesn't know me…he won't know where to look. The train won't stop for another hour either. That's all the time I need to disappear. I rush out of the car, slicing my finger by accident in the process. I curse under my breath, and then pull Lillian out of the duffel bag.

I run into the church room, into the office of the priest. It was three arm chairs, each with a nice pillow. I take the three, placing them on his desk, and then placing Lillian in the middle. It almost looks like a flower. I pull out my note, the one I wrote so far back then, when I had just gotten a baby sister, when I had just visited my mother in the hospital. The night she died, I knew…I was ready. My life was already ruined…but Lillian, she had so much to give the world. She had to; why else would she have my mother's eyes then? Why else would her being brought in this world have killed my mother? She needed to live; otherwise everything I had done, dealt with, and promised my mother was for nothing. I take out the note, and let it fall onto the middle of the desk. I kiss Lillian's forehead again, gently.

"Take care…" I whisper. My eyes tearing up as she opens her eyes. The deep blue…I swear she's my mother; she's the angel that held me in her arms when I was younger. She's in there somewhere. A single tear falls onto her face, but she closes her eyes like it doesn't matter. She doesn't make a move to wipe it off, and I realize I haven't given her anything. She can't keep a tear to remember me. I search through Henry's wallet, and find it. My picture, my favorite one, he took it from me when my mother died. Said he didn't want to find me looking at it ever again. He said he was going to burn it… It's here. He was an awful father…and husband, but deep down inside I never doubted that he cared for my mother. Deep down everyone cared, and everyone let her down. Even me. That's why…that's why she needs to live… I kiss it, knowing then that my love will be on it forever, and place it gently into her blankets.

"Good bye…" I whisper. But it's not to Lillian, and it's not to my mother, it's to my whole life. My past. I'm not yet ready to say hello to my future, but if I'm going to have one I hope it's a hell of a lot better than my past.


End file.
